


Singin' A Different Tune

by TheAuthor44



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthor44/pseuds/TheAuthor44
Summary: 1940's Noir AU - Newspaper man Max Richman, and his girl Friday Zoey Clarke, investigate the murder of a backup singer. As suspicions rise and fall with every new suspect, this story has more twists and turns than an old dirt road. Will they be able to crack the case and break their headline … before it cracks one of them?
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 57
Kudos: 18





	1. Death of a Songbird

**Author's Note:**

> You all have no idea how good it feels to be writing this one - I am sooooo excited!!  
> But I'm even more excited to have Vilindeer as my beta on this one (it was her idea to do a Noir mystery after all) 
> 
> It's my first mystery so I hope you like it.
> 
> Without further ado … I present 'Singin' A Different Tune'
> 
> P.S. italics = Max's inner monologue

_San Francisco, 1946_

_The day started like any other. And by that I mean I was on my fourth cup of coffee and I had only just walked through the double doors to the bullpen. Little trick I picked up during the war, if you can’t sleep, coffee is your best friend. Keeps the monsters at bay. What also does that, is the smile of the Decoder Heiress, who greeted me like she did every morning._

* * *

  
“Thank god you are finally here.” Zoey said, pulling Max by the arm to their secret rendezvous spot behind the phone booths. He was just going to pretend that his heart didn't beat a little quicker as they stood almost nose to nose in the alcove. 

  
“And how long have you been here?” Max asked in reply, resuming their friendly back and forth. 

  
“Long enough to hear something coming over the wire.” She said, looking like a wolf that just spotted dinner.

  
_To say it had been a slow news month would be an understatement. People were just so thrilled that wartime had come to an end; guess crime took a back seat to happier reunions._

  
“A story? Zo that would be …”

  
“Incredible. I know.”

  
“Are we talking something front page?” Max said, looking around to make sure no one else overheard. 

  
“I’ve got three words for you Max: Above. The. Fold.” Zoey said, giving his chest a friendly poke to emphasize each word. 

  
“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Max made a beeline for his desk, with Zoey hot on his tail.

  
“Newsflash Max. The _ory-stay_ is not happening at your desk.” 

  
Max grabbed a notepad and pen from his desk, shoving them into his messenger bag before turning back to his friend.

  
“I know that Zoey. But what kind of ace reporter would I be if I didn’t grab the necessary provisions for an … how did you put it? _Ory-stay_?” 

  
“I doubt that your lucky pen is absolutely necessary.” Zoey replied, but their playful moment was interrupted by her brother David sauntering over towards them.

“Hey, lovebirds.” he called out from across the bullpen.

  
“Not funny, David.” Zoey said, rolling her eyes.

  
“I actually think I’m very funny. And late for a meeting with Dad. Have you seen him? That question is also extended to you ‘Golden Boy’.” David’s not so veiled jealousy at Max’s status with the beloved Editor-in Chief did not go unnoticed. 

  
“No, I haven’t seen him. Now if you’ll excuse us, Max and I are running to catch a late breakfast.”

  
“How is that supposed to not make you two look like sweethearts?” David asked, backing off after one more death stare from his sister.

  
“So, you wanna tell me the lead we’re chasing?” Max said, grabbing his camera as they made their way out of the office.

  
“Apparently, someone was killed at The Blue Lagoon last night.” Zoey whispered, as they stepped into the elevator.

_The Blue Lagoon was a hot spot for all of San Francisco, mostly because their headliner was said to be one of the best acts on the west coast. I never got the hype, but then again I wasn’t exactly a bar fly or jazz baby._

  
“The night club? Any word on who?”

  
“Nope. But I bet we’ll find out when we get there.”

  
“I guess we will. By the way, may I just say how honored I am that you always give me the scoop over your own brother.” Max said, his eyes never leaving the floor indicator.

  
“David doesn’t need any more ego. Yours, however… the least I can do as your best friend is throw you a bone.” Their silly smiling ended when the elevator dinged.

* * *

  
_The neon lights of the Blue Lagoon sign were still on when we got there. But they didn’t draw anywhere near as much attention as the lights on the police cars lined up at the entrance. Making our way past the police tape, Zoey and I headed straight to our contact on the force, our only contact on the force to be exact. Not all reporters were so lucky._

  
“Officer Eddie. I knew when I smelled a story that the fates would be kind and put you on the case.” Max said.

  
“Hold on Richman. This is still a crime scene - no press.” Eddie said, holding up his hands to stop Max and Zoey from sneaking by.

  
“I would never dream of corrupting a crime scene. But there is a story here...”

  
“Who’s the victim?” Zoey asked, interrupting Max as she tried to peek at the commotion going on in the background.

  
“Jessica Hamilton. One of the backup singers for the headliner, Simon Haynes.”

  
“What happened?” Max asked, pulling out his notepad. 

  
“Alright, but you didn't hear it from me. Far as we can tell, she stayed late and someone snuck up on her and stabbed her in the back” Eddie whispered, looking to make sure his sergeant was out of earshot.

  
“Ouch.” Zoey said, looking again.

  
_From our vantage point behind Officer Eddie, all we could see was the dead songbird from behind. But that was enough. She lay face down on her vanity, with a large stake protruding from her back. The blood had dried, leaving a dark stain on the silky fabric of her magenta dress. It looked like the kind used to weigh down sandbags that were linked to stage curtains. Ouch was right._

  
“Found by who? Was there a witness?” As Max snapped a couple of shots with his camera, he could feel the story practically writing itself. 

  
“She was found by one of the waitresses. Poor thing - hasn’t stopped shaking since we got here.” Eddie turned and pointed to a blonde sitting in a booth to the side, arms wrapped around herself and tears streaming down her face.

  
“Autumn...” Max said, mindlessly hanging the camera back around his neck.

  
_Autumn was an old flame that, unfortunately ,never burned much hotter than a birthday candle. She was a sweet kid and we had some good times, but in the end she just wasn’t the girl for me. Having just gotten back from France and I had thought I could just get back into the swing of things. But something else occupied my mind, and it wasn’t fair to dangle carrots in front of anyone that wasn’t the horse I was betting on. I told her I needed time to focus on my career, which was partially true since it had been floating in stagnant waters pretty much until this story landed in my lap. We parted ways on friendly terms. Funny to see her here as a waitress though... last I saw of her she was trying to make it as an actress._

  
“You gonna be okay to do this?” Zoey asked. 

  
“Yeah it should be fine. Officer, would you mind if we...”

  
“No, go ahead. We already got her statement.” Eddie stepped aside, letting them make their way to the booth.

  
_Autumn would be just the first of many we would interview in trying to turn some puzzle pieces into a full picture. Little did we know that this Rembrandt would end up looking like a Picasso._


	2. A Change in the Act

_ As we made our way towards the booth, the sniffling sound coming from Autumn’s nose brought back a flash of guilt I’d been trying to forget. I just had to remember that this time around, she was not the victim but a witness. In my years at the paper, I’ve found it helps if you have a few of those to fill in the blanks.  _

“Hey, Autumn. Are you okay?” Max asked, as he slid into the other side of the booth while Zoey leaned on the end of the table.

“Oh, Max. I’ll be alright. I’m feelin’ a little better even, knowing that you get the scoop on this one.” Autumn replied, taking the hankie in her hand and blowing her nose into it, which was then followed by a sneeze or two.

“Would you mind telling us what you told the police?” Zoey asked.

“If you feel up to it.” Max added, feeling the need for it, as his friend wasn’t always the most in tune with her sensitivity. 

“Anything for you, Maxie.” Autumn replied with a sweet smile.

Trying to hide the blush growing on his ears at his old nickname, Max turned away from Zoey’s raised brow, lucky pen in hand. 

“Tell us what you saw.” 

“Well, last night I was feeling just awful. My allergies were acting up something fierce, so I decided to go home after my shift and come in early this morning to finish cleaning up. When I got here, all the lights were off. Nothing out of the usual. But then I … I …” Overcome by emotion, Autumn started blubbering again. Max offered her the fresh handkerchief he always kept in his breast pocket, which she gladly accepted. “She was so nice to me whenever I would catch her backstage or on her breaks. She told me to keep dreamin’ and one day I would make it.”

“You didn’t see anything or anyone else? Anything out of place?” Zoey asked.

“No. She was just laying there, slumped over. The poor thing. It’s such a shame about the dress too … those stains will probably never come out!” 

As Autumn’s next bout of hysterics hit, Max gave Zoey a look and the two went to have a pow-wow on the side.

“Well, that was helpful.” Zoey said, taking another look at Autumn who was letting out yet another body-wracking sob. 

“While I was hoping that Autumn would have something a little more … substantial, I’m still sorry she had to be the one to find the body. She’s such a sensitive soul.”

“Isn’t she the one who dragged you to the middle of nowhere to stare at a couple of butterflies?”

“We actually went for a flower festival, which was lovely. The butterflies were just a happy accident.” His sarcastic tone earned him another raised brow from the redhead, but Max decided to change the subject before Zoey could give him any more grief. “It’ll probably be another day or so before they let us look at the crime scene. What do you suggest we do till then?”

Before answering him, Zoey noticed a tall brunette woman standing behind Max at the bar. She recognized her immediately from the many, many, many expose’s  _ The Decoder _ had done on her husband. 

“You wanna know what really goes on - you talk to the boss.” Zoey said, as she started walking towards the bar, with Max in tow.

_ Joan Bennett, wife of well-known mafia titan Charlie Bennett, owned and ran the Blue Lagoon. She was a no nonsense broad who could give it as well as she could take it. It was rumored that she bought the place with her own money, just to have one thing that her husband couldn't. But something told me the two goons posted at the entrance weren’t exactly on her payroll.  _

“Excuse me, Mrs. Bennett…” Zoey started to say, before getting cut off.

“Mrs. Bennett is the obnoxious bag of bones I am now legally forced to call ‘Mom’. Call me Joan.”

“Okay … Joan. My name is Zoey Clarke and this is Max Richman, we’re from  _ The Decoder _ .” 

“We were wondering if you could give us any information on what really happened to Jessica Hamilton.” Max interjected. 

“Well, I don’t know much about the actual murder, other than it’s the reason for the phone call this morning that interrupted my beauty sleep.”

“What about Jessica herself? Did she have any enemies?” Zoey asked.

“That british rose was born without thorns. It’s one of the things I liked about her the least. Nice people are always so boring. No offense doll.” Joan said, looking over at Max before continuing. “If I were you, I wouldn’t look much further than the person hurt the most by the recent change in the act.”

“What changed in the act?” Max said.

“Well you know Hamilton and the headliner were an item. Word around here is he finally popped the question last week, and you know the first thing that happens in a merger is downsizing. The two of them were supposedly gonna be the next Fred and Ginger, but with less dancing and better singing. If I had to put money on it, I bet the other backup girl wasn’t too happy being squeezed out of the group.” 

* * *

_ We decided to go see for ourselves just how broken up this backup singer was about being cut from the act. We got to her apartment just as the police were just leaving. Still, she welcomed us in with open arms - and a plate of cookies. At first glance Mo was beautiful and poised, but a spitfire temper that would only flare up when you asked a stupid question. As it turned out, I had one of those.  _

“Why would I be upset at something that was my idea in the first place?” Mo said, with a look that was in direct opposition of the friendly gesture of offering Max a cookie, as Zoey had already had three.

“We were told that the happy couple wanted to change the group after the change in their relationship.”

“Jessica was my friend, I’ll miss her dearly and I hate to speak ill of the dead, but she didn’t have half the talent I do in my dainty little pinky. Once they got engaged, I saw it as an opportunity to spread my creative wings and fly out on my own. The only reason I was even in the act to begin with was to get my start in show business. I plan to have a flourishing career, and that doesn’t happen when you’re somebody else’s backup singer.”

“So they weren’t squeezing you out.” Zoey asked, taking yet another cookie from the plate.

“No, they allowed me an opportunity most wouldn’t. I’ll be grateful to them for the rest of my days, especially Simon.”

“Speaking of, we were hoping you could give him a message. We would like to speak with him as well.” Max said.

“I don’t know if he’ll be willing to talk just yet. But, I’ll do what I can.”

_ After hitting yet another dead end, Zoey and I decided to call it a day. The next morning we were going over the crime scene photos, trying to see if there was anything that could crack the case, when the Editor in Chief decided to pay us a visit.  _

“How’s it lookin’ kids?” Mitch Clarke said, giving his daughter a one armed hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“So far, not great. But we’re still waiting to talk to the fiancé.”

“I’m not worried Ace, you’ll get it. You’ve got a nose for news. And what are you contributing here miss?”

“I … am helping Max look over photos of the crime scene.” Zoey said, squirming as she defended herself, which Max always loved to watch. 

“Zoey! Got someone on the line for you.” Glen called out from the switchboard.

“And, I'm apparently getting urgent calls. I’ll be right back, don’t solve it without me.” She patted Max on the arm before walking over. It did not go unnoticed by Mitch that Max’s stare lingered in his daughter’s direction. 

“What?” Max said, looking up at his boss and mentor. 

“Nothing.” Mitch replied with a wink, before walking back to his office. 

“Max. That was Simon Haynes. He’s ready to talk.” Zoey said as she returned. 

“You have the where?”

“Yes, I do.” Zoey said, holding up the paper in her hand

“Then let’s go.” 

* * *

_ The apartment was more lavish than I would have expected from a nightclub singer, but something told me that was the work of his recently departed fiancé. We were led into a parlor, where there sat the great Simon Haynes, looking worse for wear. Though dressed to the nines, it was the eyes that gave him away, along with the stubble on his chin. As he motioned for us to sit, there was something about him I couldn’t put my finger on - but I knew I didn’t like it. _

“Mr. Haynes, we are so sorry for your loss. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us.” Zoey said as they sat down across from Simon. 

“Thank you. You must be Miss Clarke who I had the pleasure of speaking with earlier. I thought I recognized that lovely voice. Do you do any singing?”

_ And there it was.  _

“No.” Zoey then let out a giggle that Max had never heard before, followed by another unfamiliar tone in her voice. “And please, call me Zoey.” 

“And I’m Max Richman. Now that we’re all properly introduced, we can speak about the matter at hand. Mr. Haynes…”

“Please, call me Simon.” Though his words seemed directed at Max, his gaze never left Zoey. 

“Mr. Haynes … do you have any idea who would want your fiancé dead?” Max asked, his patience thinning by the second.

“No, not a clue. Jessica was so beloved. She never had a bad word to say about anybody.”

“Well someone killed her. Most motives usually fall into three categories - love, money, or revenge.”

“I can’t think of any of those that would apply.” Simon said, finally looking at Max. The two locked eyes and stayed that way, both participating in a silent challenge - waiting for the other to speak first.

“What exactly excludes you as a suspect, Mr. Haynes?” Max finally said, breaking the silence.

_ I’ll admit my tone could have been a little nicer, but this guy rubbed me the wrong way. Mostly because he was making moves on my girl. I’d carried a torch for Zoey Clarke since I first laid eyes on her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I found myself in a French foxhole fearing for my life that I realized just how bright that torch burned. I had been planning on saying something ever since I came back, but it became more apparent every day that she didn’t feel the same. Especially now... as she drooled on the chaise while making eyes at the singer.  _

“I loved Jessica. Our relationship may not have been perfect, but  _ nothing  _ worth killing over.”

“Of course. And I’m sure the police already have your alibi.” Zoey said, using that tone again that made Max’s skin crawl.

“After we finished our set, I waited for Jessica at the bar like I always do. When she finally came out I asked if she was ready to go home, but she said she wanted to go through the wardrobe to see what she wanted to keep for the new act. So, I went home. And that’s where I’ve been ever since I heard news of her passing.” Zoey handed Simon a tissue from the box on the coffee table between them, as fresh tears began to form in his eyes. 

“You were so willing to leave your fiancé in a club after hours?”

“It wasn’t the first time. We both sometimes stayed late rehearsing, or Jessica would stay and mend some of her dresses. I have no idea who could do this. I wish I did. I want her killer caught as much as you do.” Simon replied, wiping his eyes once more.

_ While Zoey was willing to look past the tears, I wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t those of a crocodile. Simon had an alibi that was flimsy at best, but putting my personal feelings aside, there really didn’t seem to be a hint of strife between the happy couple. The backup singer was a bust. Autumn was a dead end. There didn’t seem to be one clear motive among this cast of characters. At least none that would lead to murder. For now.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a few comments, I felt the need to add this lol
> 
> Simon is not 'flirting' with Zoey so much as he is 'always on' (ever the performer) trying to keeping his grief managed but it slips out every now and then. Hes using her as a distraction (surprise surprise) while Max asks him all the hard questions. 
> 
> Don't worry my dear readers - have I ever let you down before 😜


	3. Man of Mystery

_ Even after I'd had some time to sleep on it, something about our talk with Simon still wasn’t sitting right with me. And it wasn’t just because he seemed to be using Zoey’s eyes to check out his own reflection. There was something he wasn’t telling us, and I was at my wits end from trying to figure out what it was. No one could be that cool after someone they loved was just iced. I know I wouldn’t be. So the next day, Zoey and I were hard at work trying to figure it out. _

* * *

“You know if you spin that chair all the way around enough times, you’re gonna unscrew it from the base.” Zoey said, tossing her latest paper hat on the desk to join its brothers.

“I’m telling you Zoey, Simon had something to do with Jessica’s death. I just have no way to prove it … yet.”

“Max, he’s a grieving almost-widower. You saw how broken up he got. You can’t fake that kind of raw emotion.”

“Yeah well, I still think there’s a trout in the milk.” Max said, as he pushed up his already rolled-up sleeves, purely out of habit.

“Why are you so hellbent on Simon being guilty?” Zoey stood up from the chair, enjoying the brief moment  _ she  _ could tower over someone for a change. 

“Why are you so hellbent on calling our possible  _ suspect  _ by his first name?” Max practically bolted from his chair, mimicking her stance. 

As they stood there, almost nose to nose, Max could swear he saw Zoey’s breath hitch. 

_ I wasn’t usually so forceful when I spoke, but I was making a mental note to do it more often as long as it got this kind of reaction from Zoey. Unfortunately, the mood was spoiled when Glen came running over. That's how it seemed to go ever since I realized my feelings. Either something came up, or someone. It was almost as frustrating as finding Jessica's killer … which was, of course, my main concern. _

“Richman, I’ve got a very aggressive woman on the phone who says she needs to talk to you pronto. You too Zoey.”

“You get a name?” Max asked, picking up his jacket from the back of his chair.

“She just said to come to the Blue Lagoon, and then asked if a simpleton like me could remember that without writing it down.”

“Sounds like Joan has something for us.” Zoey replied. Max nodded and they were on their way.

_ Joan’s call seemed to come out of the blue. And from my experience, there were two possible reasons why the she-devil was calling us back to her lair. Either she found out something new, or she conveniently “remembered” something now that the cops had left the building. _

“Well, if it isn’t Rosalind Russel and Carey Grant.” Joan said, greeting Max and Zoey as they came through the door. “Got a hot tip for your story, so break out the notepad Skippy.”

“Ms. Ben…” Max began to say before getting a subtle elbow to the ribs from Zoey. “Joan. Lovely to see you again. What do you have for us?”

“LEIF!” Joan called out. One of the goons Max had eyed on their last visit came running from his post by the door. 

“Yeah, Joan.”

“Tell these two what you told me.” Joan instructed, as she started pouring liquor into a shaker.

_ The blonde definitely didn’t look like your typical mob muscle, but then again Joan wasn’t your typical dons wife wither. He looked more like a rat to me, but at that moment I didn’t care as long as he had the cheese.  _

“Everyone thinks that Haynes and Hamilton were madly in love without even so much as a lover’s quarrel. But, I heard them having a big argument the night she died.” Leif said, looking at Joan after each sentence like a dog to it’s master.

“That’s funny. Mr. Haynes didn’t mention a recent argument when we spoke to him yesterday. Did he Zoey?”

“What was the argument about?” Zoey said, trying to ignore the growing smirk on Max’s face.

“Yeah, get to the good stuff.” Joan interjected, seemingly giddy as the drama unfolded both in the story and between those listening to it.

“I couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but I know it had to do with the other backup singer, Mo. And whatever it was, it set Hamilton off like a starter’s pistol. She was yelling, throwing her arms in the air, pointing fingers in Haynes' chest - the works”

“Okay, you’re done. Back to your post.” With a flick of her hand, Leif ran back to join his post, as Joan poured the martini she had been shaking into a glass. “I told you the tip was hot. Now, what are you gonna do about it?” 

“Obviously, Haynes has something to hide. I say we march back over to his apartment and confront him on it. C’mon Zo.” Max said, practically marching out the door.

“Thanks again, Joan.” Zoey called out as she followed. Joan raised her glass in response, before taking a satisfying sip.

* * *

_ Zoey and I wasted no time driving over to Simon’s apartment building. We arrived to find the elevator out of service, which meant I would be getting my cardio for the month. I was always more of a weightlifter, but that’s neither here nor there. Both of us practically ran up the stairs, eager to confront Simon about the fight - each with very different intentions, of course. Once we got to his floor, I sprinted ahead of Zoey, only to find a surprise waiting around the bend. Luckily, I was able to catch her with my arm, pulling her into another hallway so as to not blow our cover.  _

“What is Mo doing here?” Zoey whispered.

“I don’t know. But I’m gonna find out.” 

Pulling away from Zoey, Max peered his head out from behind the bend.

“What do you see?” Zoey asked. Max placed his finger on his lips before turning to look again.

_ What I saw looked a lot cozier than just an embrace between friends. Simon was holding Mo in his arms, stroking her hair, letting his hands linger just a little bit longer before finally letting her go. When they parted, Mo made his way to the staircase making me dart back behind the wall, coming nose to nose with Zoey for the second time that day. There was definitely a hitch in her breath that time.  _

“What’d you see?” Zoey whispered, sounding more out of breath than trying to be covert. 

“Simon is definitely hiding something. And that something is Mo.”

“ _ They _ were having an affair?”

“Only one way to find out.” Max checked to see if the coast was clear before heading towards the stairs.

“She’s not really his type, I mea- hey! Where are you going? Aren’t we going to talk to Simon?” Zoey asked, suddenly aware that Max was already halfway down the stairs. At her call, he came back up to the landing.

“Mo will probably be an easier nut to crack. The ‘other woman’ is more likely to give us something than the adulterer. Come on.” 

_ Jumping in my caddy, we were just in time to see Mo drive past us. We tailed her all the way to a club on the other side of town, which was not the best of neighborhoods. Mo quickly got out of the car, pulling the lapels of her coat up around her face before disappearing through a side door. Zoey and I tried to follow, but the door was locked. Heading around to the front of the club, despite the neighborhood, it didn’t look like a cloak-and-dagger kind of joint. It was actually a pretty swanky place, especially compared to the mafiosa ambiance back at the Blue Lagoon. There was even live entertainment. A sign outside that promised the smooth musical stylings of Wayne Moses Jennings. Never having heard the name before, I was even more curious to see what awaited us inside. I opened the door for Zoey, before following close behind. The lounge had wall to wall red velvet, aside from the black, tall bar tables and dance floor. Zoey and I took a table in the back, ordering a drink or two as we kept an eye out for Mo.  _

“Something about this just doesn’t add up. Mo is a free agent now, why would she slink in through a side door. Seems more like the type who likes to make an entrance.” Max said, taking a slow sip from his glass. 

“Maybe she’s got a thing going with that Jennings fella, and doesn’t want Simon to know she’s two timing him.” Zoey said, biting off one of the olives from her drink, leaving the toothpick to linger between her lips. 

“When did one person stop being enough? I swear, every story  _ The Decoder _ ran in the last month has been about one clandestine affair or another.” 

“I could never do it. I have enough trouble getting one man to stick around.” 

Watching Zoey take a sip of her drink, Max decided to use the moment and mood lighting to his advantage.

“Hey, after all these years you’ve still got me.” Max said, tapping his glass with nervous fingers.

“Of course. But, you don’t count. David can make as many jokes as he wants, doesn’t make us anything more than good friends.”

“Best friends. Ever since my first day. God, remember how green I was then.”

“You were the only guy on the paper who didn’t ask me to fetch his coffee.”

“Well, that was my plan all along. Lull you into a false sense of security as part of an elaborate manipulation. Now you bring me coffee willingly under the guise of ‘friendship’.” His words earned him a playful shove from Zoey, who was wearing a smile that made his heart skip beats. “Actually, Zo there’s something I’ve wanted to …” Max started to say, but was cut off by a booming voice that echoed over the whole room.

“Ladies and gents, please give a warm  _ Golden Lounge  _ welcome to Mister Wayne Moses Jennings.” 

_ As the announcer stepped off the stage, the whole place went dark. A single spot appeared in the middle of the stage, as Wayne Moses Jennings stepped into the light, revealing a bigger plot twist than Hitchcock could have accomplished. Even without the makeup, the hair, or the heels - there was no mistaking the voice. There was only one person I knew with that soprano and sass. _

“Max, is that who I think it is?” Zoey asked, unable to take her eyes off the stage.

“Mo isn’t sleeping with Jennings. She  _ is  _ Jennings.”


	4. Smoke and Mirrors

_**“Max, is that who I think it is?” Zoey asked, unable to take her eyes off the stage.** _

_**“Mo isn’t sleeping with Jennings. She is Jennings.” ** _

* * *

_ To say I was flabbergasted would have been an understatement. As  _ _ Mr. Jennings _ _ sang his first song of the night, all I could think about was how we had been duped. And wondering if that 'we' , also included the illustrious Simon Haynes. Playing everyone for a fool sure seemed like motive for murder to me, especially if someone was a threat to that little secret. That was all speculation, of course, until we got a quote from the man of mystery himself. Towards the end of his set, Zoey and I moved ourselves to a table closer to the stage - right in his eyeline. Mo looked like a deer in the headlights when he finally saw us, but never missing a note. After the show we followed him discreetly, ready to corner him in his dressing room. Zoey went to block the side door where he had originally entered, as I stood by the door to the club - closing it behind me so we wouldn’t be disturbed. Mo didn’t notice us at first, throwing things haphazardly into a suitcase like someone about to miss the last train. It made him look more guilty by the second. _

“Going somewhere,  _ mister  _ Jennings.” Max said, causing Mo to immediately halt his movements.

“I can explain.” Mo replied, not even turning around. 

“Explain what? How you’ve been posing as a woman all this time? Or how Jessica found out your little secret and you did whatever you could to make sure she stayed quiet?” Zoey said, as Max jumped on her train of thought, continuing it to the next station.

“Maybe she found out the truth behind her fiancé’s illicit affair, and you teamed up to take her out of the picture once and for all.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Zoey said, losing the stern look on her face for a moment, before remembering that she was in the middle of a big confrontation with a possible murderer. 

“Okay, you had me and you lost me.” Mo said, finally turning around. “Who the hell told you Simon and I were having an affair?”

“No one.” Max said, as it was his turn for his confrontation face to falter. 

“But we saw a hug earlier that looked a little more cozy than it should’ve been for a singer and his backup girl … or guy. Stop changing the subject, Mo - did you kill Jessica?” Zoey said, stepping forward. 

“No, of course not. Sit down before you jump to any more conclusions and hurt yourselves.” Mo replied, as he gestured to a sofa against the far wall of the dressing room.

_ We proceeded with caution, eventually taking a seat with Mo across from us. Now in the same position as the last time we spoke, Zoey and I wondered what yarn would be spun this time. And more importantly, if we would buy it. _

“I’ve always loved to sing. In the church choir, I always got the solo and it made me feel so special - I knew I wanted to do it forever. There was just one problem. The world wasn’t ready for a male soprano, let alone a person of color, and believe me I went everywhere. Simon found me at a club on the east coast where my differences were about to earn me a good licking. He saved me in more ways than one that night, by suggesting that I join his act as one of his  _ female  _ backup singers. So, yes I love Simon, I always will, but as nothing more than a dear friend. What you saw was just us saying goodbye. I finally found a place that would accept me here and I wasn’t about to pass it up. He didn't want me to.” Mo leaned back, looking more confident than before. 

“What about the fight Simon had with Jessica the night she died?” Zoey asked.

“He told me about that today, and I feel just awful. I had asked Simon to keep our little secret between us, but once he proposed he didn't want there to be any secrets between him and his lady love. From what he said, Jessica couldn’t believe her own beau didn’t trust her with that big of a secret, especially after all our years together as a group. But, eventually she understood. In fact, she called me that night to tell me that she would keep my secret as long as she lived. Ironic, isn’t it? Usually, that’s just a figure of speech. Anyway, after that Jessica told me she was going to head home and make up with Simon. I went there today to tell him all this, and I’m happy I was able to give him a little peace about her death. Simon was absolutely distraught when he thought she had died without forgiving him.” 

_ The emotion in Mo’s eyes was obvious. For all his bluster and bravado, there really was a gentle soul underneath. A soul I doubted could have killed someone in cold blood, especially considering the secret was no longer front page news now that he was performing under his given name. I handed Mo the handkerchief from my pocket as the tears started to fall. Obviously, both he and Simon had been guilty of something, but it wasn’t looking like murder. Zoey and I shared a look before letting out deep, simultaneous sighs. It was back to square one for us.  _

__ “He was just so convincing.” Zoey said, as they drove home from the club.

“I know.”

“I mean … his makeup was flawless. I’m an actual woman and I can’t even figure out how to do that.”

“Well, cut yourself a little slack; you’re not in show business.” Max joked. 

“And poor Simon. This just goes to show, keeping secrets never did anyone a lick of good. Can you imagine, getting in such a big fight with someone you love only to have them die before you can set things right.”

“Even I have to admit, I feel sorry for the guy. But now the question is … where do we go from here? We need a new lead, and fast.”

“Yeah, I know. This trail is getting colder by the second.” Zoey stared out her window for a moment, before turning back around to Max. “Hey, if we’re really back to where we started - why not actually go where this all started?”

“The Blue Lagoon?” 

“Yes. But more specifically, the scene of the crime. Maybe if we go poking around we can find something that will, at the very least, give us a new lead to chase.” 

_ As I pulled up to Zoey’s apartment building, there was a comfortable lull in the conversation. I thought about trying to share my feelings again, as Zoey’s line about secrets was pounding in my head, keeping in time with the beat of my heart. Ultimately, I decided against it. There had been enough big reveals for one evening. But fate had other plans. _

“Sounds like a plan, partner. I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.” Max said as he put the car in park, before turning to his passenger. 

“I’ll reach out to Joan and see if she can let us in before the staff. It would probably be best to not have people snooping on our snooping. Oh, I almost forgot. Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me, before  _ Mr. Jennings _ made his debut?” Zoey asked innocently.

“Yeah there was … but in all the excitement of the night it just flew out of my head.” 

“Oh, okay. Well if it comes back around, let me know.” Zoey got out of the car, walking around to Max’s open window. “Goodnight, Max.”

“Goodnight, Zoey.” Max said, letting his head fall to the steering wheel once she had gone inside. 

* * *

_ The next day, bright and early, we went to the Blue Lagoon. Per Zoey's suggestion, we had the place to ourselves, thanks to Joan’s love for drama and mystery, and her leaving a key for us in a potted plant next to the front entrance. Once the door was open, we went to work, remembering to be as professional as possible when investigating a crime scene.  _

“So, what should we be looking for exactly?” Zoey asked, surprising Max.

“This was your idea, Zo. What did you think we were gonna find?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping for something conspicuous that trained police officers happened to have overlooked.”

“Should be a piece of cake then." Max's sarcasm was noted, as he and Zoey split up to look for clues. "I’ll look back stage, why don’t you go look by the vanity. Holler if you find anything.” 

Max hopped up on the stage, disappearing behind the curtain, as Zoey walked around back from behind the bar. 

“I assume you meant something other than the giant bloodstain on the carpet? Honestly, I can’t believe Joan hasn’t replaced that yet.” Zoey called out.

“Yeah, well. With Simon M.I.A., she doesn’t exactly have anyone in desperate need of the performance space.” Max shouted back, as he inspected his area.  Looking up, he saw the ropes and sandbags reached all the way up to the rafters, and there were a few stakes lying around not in use - easily accessible to anyone who was backstage. 

“I did theater in high school, and I don’t remember the crew being this careless with their equipment. I’m surprised there aren’t more accidents.” Max said, walking over to look at the curtain separating the stage from Jessica's dressing area.

“This is a pretty empty vanity, especially for someone who was always as dolled up as Jessica was. Just a hairbrush, some face powder, and  _ ooh  _ a bottle of fancy perfume.” Zoey reached for the bottle, stopping herself just before she grazed it with her fingertips. “Max? I can touch this right? I won’t be tampering with any crime-solving evidence?”

“I think you’re good.” Max said, poking his head out from behind the curtain. 

“For the amount paid per ounce, you would think the manufacturing would be higher quality. The bottle must have a broken seal or a crack or something, it’s all wet.” Zoey placed the bottle back down, smelling the tips of her fingers that were now drenched in the scent. “Well, that’s an unusual fragrance. Gardenias, I think.” 

“Not everyone prefers the scent of cherry blossoms like you do.” Max said, without thinking, immediately regretting the words that just slipped out.

“That’s oddly specific knowledge about how I smell. Care to comment on how you acquired that, Richman?” Zoey joked, apparently clueless.

“I have a very acute sense of smell that goes beyond my journalistic abilities for sniffing out a story. Find anything yet?” Max said as he joined Zoey by the vanity, hoping she bought his fumble.

“No. You?”

“No, not really. Maybe it would help if we recreate the scene. Okay, Zo you sit there and pretend to be Jessica. I’ll pretend to be the killer.” Max said grabbing one of the very accessible stakes from behind the curtain.

“Might as well, I already smell like her.” 

_ I figured the killer had to have grabbed the murder weapon from backstage first, sneaking up on Jessica from behind. Picking up one of the stakes, I slowly made my way to Zoey holding it above my head like I was going in for the kill. _

“Really, Max? I can see you in the mirror. There is no way someone snuck up behind Jessica like that and _successfully_ killed her. She would have seen them coming.”

“Okay, but there’s no other way to get access to the stakes. So, the killer had to have come this way.”

“Maybe they hid it behind their back?” Zoey suggested.

“Yeah … or maybe it was someone unsuspecting. Someone that she trusted.”

“Please don’t tell me you _still_ think Simon had anything to do with this?” Zoey said, spinning around in the vanity chair to look at Max.

“I’m not ruling anyone out completely. Now, come on, turn around and get ready to die.” 

_ I pretended to plunge the stake into Zoey’s back, causing her to fall forward onto the vanity. However, in true Zoey fashion, she hit the mark a little too hard; jolting the vanity, the perfume fell on its side rolling right off the table and onto the floor.  _

“Well, now we know what probably caused the leak. I’m surprised the police didn’t confiscate this as evidence.” Zoey said, sliding down to pick up the bottle.

“Must have been clean for prints, or any other DNA that wasn’t Jessica’s.” 

“Uh, Max. You’re gonna wanna see this.” Zoey called over her shoulder.

_ As I crawled down on all fours to join her, I could clearly see what Zoey was referring to. On the underside of the vanity, was a secret compartment. Normally, it would have blended in perfectly … had it not been for the bloodied handkerchief now hanging out the side.  _

“Is that what I think it is?” Zoey whispered, with Max leaning forward to get a better look.

“If you mean evidence that you should definitely not touch, I’d say that’s a pretty safe bet.” 

_ We stayed like that for a moment, the mix of cherry blossoms and gardenia overpowering my senses. Quickly realizing the awkwardness of our very close proximity, we both tried to get out from under the vanity at the same time. This, of course, made Zoey to bump her head - causing the handkerchief to fall. Only then, could I see the monogrammed initials stitched onto the corner. I got up pretty quickly after that, offering my hand to Zoey who looked shaken up by our latest discovery. _

“It looks like someone used that to wipe their hands clean of any blood…”

“No…”

“...and then stuck it in the secret compartment.” Max said. “Someone with the initials  _ S.H. _ ” 

“I can’t believe it … I just… how could I have been so stupid.” Zoey’s eyes brimmed with tears, a look of embarrassment overtaking her face. Max placed his finger gently under her chin, tilting her head to meet his. 

“Hey, none of this falls on you, okay? None of it. Come here.” 

_ As I held Zoey in my arms, I knew it would take a lot more than a hug to ease her conscience. A little while later I called it in to Officer Eddie, earning myself an earful from Joan who wasn’t too happy to have coppers swarming the place again. Simon was officially suspect number one, as there was finally proof. Which made me wonder why I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end of the story.  _


	5. Clouded Eyes

_After finding the key piece of evidence against him, Simon was arrested. The case seemed pretty open and shut after that, which meant it was time for the writing portion of my chosen career - and boy were my fingertips itching to get this one down. Zoey, however, was less than enthused. I could tell something about this whole thing wasn’t sitting right with her, but a part of me was too afraid to find out the reason why. We had a little tradition whenever it came time to put pen to paper on a story; I would do the actual writing and Zoey would sit by my desk and distract me. For a newspaper heiress, she had no inclination towards an ad-lib or oxford comma. She was only ever in it for the mystery, and that part was still perplexing her._

* * *

“I just don’t get it.” Zoey said. 

“What’s there to get? Jessica’s blood was found all over _his_ handkerchief, in a secret compartment of a vanity that _he_ got for her all the way from gay Paree. Made to order.” Max looked up from his typewriter, heart breaking at the sight of his disillusioned gal pal. “I know how you hate to be wrong Zo, but…”

“I’m not wrong. Usually. Something about this whole story feels too … neat. We’ve been working together for five years. Can you remember one time a story wrapped itself in a nice little bow like this? And where’s the motive? There’s something we’re missing. Some angle we haven’t found yet.” Zoey sifted through the crime scene photos again; inspecting them as close as she could get before her nose hit the film. Max let out a deep sigh, once again pulling focus from his writing.

“Normally, I would agree with you. But just think of all the twists and turns this story has taken already, I doubt there could possibly be any more. As for motive … if Simon killed her and lied to our faces, I doubt he’s going to be forthcoming about his reasoning behind it.” Max said, before turning back to his typewriter.

“And you call yourself a journalist. Well, since this story is apparently over, I’m gonna go cover the switchboard and see what I can scrape up for us next. Maybe a nice kitten in a tree or something.” Zoey joked. Looking to see Max hadn’t even lifted his head, she rolled her eyes before turning to head to the phones.

_The joke had gone unnoticed by me, and that wouldn’t be the only thing. While I was absorbed in my work, stringing together the twisted tale, Zoey was getting ready to dive into the deep end on nothing more than a hunch and a pretty face._

“Decoder.” Zoey said, plugging into another line.

“Yes, I need to speak to Zoey Clarke please.” The caller was using hushed tones, but Zoey thought she recognized the voice.

“Speaking?”

“Zoey? It’s Simon. Please, don’t hang up. I need someone to hear me out, and I think you’re the only one who will.”

“And why would you think that?” Zoey said, after a pause. 

“Because I’m innocent, and I think deep down you know that too. I didn’t kill Jessica … I _couldn’t_ have.”

“Why should I believe you? You forget, I know you’re pretty good at juggling secrets and lies.”

“Look, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just meet me in the back booth at the Blue Lagoon.”

“Okay, we’ll be there. I just have to pull my partner away from his typewriter.” Zoey was about to take off her headset, when she heard Simon call out. 

“I think it’s best if you come alone. Your partner didn’t seem too keen on me from our first interview, I doubt he’ll be willing to hear me out now that the evidence is stacked against me.” 

Zoey thought about it for a moment before answering, “Alright, I’m on my way.” 

_Apparently, after being questioned by the police, Simon had been let out on bail and scurried back under the only rock he knew. It also didn’t hurt that Joan had a few cops in her pocket, instructed to look the other way in certain instances. Zoey was hesitant to believe Simon at his word, but something she always trusted was her gut. However, she conveniently forgot how often that her gut gets her into trouble - unless I’m there to get us out of it. Her sneaking away while I was distracted writing made that a little hard to do. On a regular business day, the Lagoon still had a few stragglers, but that didn’t make Simon any harder to spot. Zoey found him sitting in a booth all the way in the back, away from any prying eyes. Those booths had a reputation for housing murderers, and Zoey knew that working for a newspaper. And still, she sat down._

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Simon said, gesturing for Zoey to join him.

“Consider my interest peaked. Something about the story doesn’t sit right with me … that’s the only reason I’m here.” Zoey’s poker face was rusty, but still she sat down.

“I need someone to hear me out. So far everyone has written me off as a killer. Mo even left town; went back home claiming to be too heartbroken to watch what becomes of me. But Zoey, you have to believe me, I didn’t kill her. I loved her.”

“Then give me a reason. Because your handkerchief was found covered in her blood, in a secret compartment of a gift you special ordered from Paris.”

“I had no idea about that compartment. Yes, I had it shipped from Paris, but that came straight from Jessica’s parent’s house. It was hers from childhood. She gave up so much to be a singer, I didn’t want her to have to give up everything. As for the handkerchief … I honestly have no idea how that got there. I thought I lost it weeks ago.”

“This is all sounding very flimsy and circumstantial Simon. If you didn’t kill Jessica, you need to present concrete proof that you couldn’t have been involved. Otherwise, I walk.” As much as Zoey wanted to believe him, she stood her ground. 

Simon remained quiet for a moment, seeming to search his brain for anything that could get him out of this mess. After a moment, it looked as though inspiration struck. 

“After our fight, I stopped at this 24-hour diner to pick up a cheesecake as an apology. I had completely forgotten about that until now. Hearing the news of her death made something as insignificant as a cheesecake just fly out of my head, I guess. I think it’s still sitting in my icebox at home. That has to be something? Right?”

“I-I don’t know, maybe…”

“When they questioned me, the police said Jessica was killed between 1:30 and 2:30 a.m. I’m pretty sure I was in the diner picking up the cake at 2 a.m. And I left her the car, so I had to walk home - that’s another fifteen minutes right there.”

“That still leaves a lot of unsupervised time, Simon. And because you didn’t come forward with this information sooner, it’s going to be hard finding a witness who remembers you buying a cheesecake at 2 a.m. I don’t think...” Zoey began to say, but she was interrupted by Simon taking her hand in a desperate plea. 

“Please, Zoey. I am not a killer. You have to believe me, someone just has to believe me!”

“Okay, okay Simon. I believe you. But proving your innocence isn’t something I can do alone. I have to bring Max in on it.” 

* * *

_Night had fallen by the time Zoey returned to the Decoder. I was still working, and of course she knew I would be. Everyone else had gone home for the night, but Max Richman could always be counted on as the last one to leave when he was hatching a story. I had just begun writing the last leg, when Zoey walked over and got my attention._

“I have to tell you something, and I need you to listen until I’m done before you say anything.” Zoey twisted her gloves, which immediately told Max she did something.

“Okay…”

“I met with Simon today at the Blue Lagoon.”

“Zoey!”

“Max! You promised you’d let me finish.”

“No, actually, I didn't. I can’t believe you would go talk to him, and by yourself! Without telling me! Are you out of your mind?” Max shouted, standing up from his desk.

“See this? This right here is why Simon suggested I go alone. You wouldn’t be willing to hear his side.”

“He’s a murderer, that’s all I need to know about his side.”

“Oh, please. You haven’t liked him since the second you met him. Which he picked up on, by the way.” At Zoey’s words, Max started pacing the empty bullpen, trying to find the right rebuttal.

“Zoey, the point here isn’t whether or not I like Simon. You went to a clandestine meeting with a suspected murderer, without backup.”

“I didn’t need backup, because he’s innocent.”

“Oh, Zoey. Come on. He called you over there to plead his case, hoping you would fall for it. And why? Because you’ve been smitten with him since he made that crack about _‘oh do you sing?’_ I didn’t trust him from the moment I saw how he was looking at you.” 

“I resent that. I am not ‘smitten’ just because I’m not as willing to write-off an innocent man as you are.”

“How do you know he’s innocent? Please, enlighten me.” Max said, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face.

“Well, he lost the bloody handkerchief that was found weeks ago, before it was bloodied. And apparently, he didn’t know about the hidden compartment, only Jessica did. That was her childhood vanity that he had brought over from her family home. And on the night of the murder … he bought a cheesecake.” Zoey crossed her arms, trying to match his stance as if that would make her words sound any less ridiculous.

“Really? He bought a cheesecake? That’s his alibi? That is so flimsy you couldn’t stand a feather on it. You know I usually consider you to be a pretty smart person. But, I guess that goes out the window for engaged guys who murder their fiancés!” Max had started walking closer to Zoey with each word, his hands talking just as fast as his lips.

“Why are you so stuck on the fact that … okay maybe I found him charming when we first met, but...”

“I knew it! I was sure this was clouding your judgement!”

“UGHH! You’re so stubborn!” 

Zoey balled her fists, keeping them by her side as she stomped her foot in frustration. Letting out a huff, she waited for Max’s reply.

“Maybe I’m being stubborn because I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way over this guy!”

“That is ridiculous! Why are you being so dramatic?!”

“Dammit, Zoey! Because I’m in love with you!” 

_Somehow, amidst all the yelling, we had ended up less than a foot apart. Which is how I could see Zoey’s eyes go wide at my words. Sure, I could have given her a hundred logical reasons behind my point of view, but this was the only one that mattered. And it was about time I had said it. We stood, seemingly frozen in that moment. Neither of us spoke, we didn’t even blink. We just stood there waiting for the other to break the silence. I decided that since I’d gone this far, I might as well bring it home._

“I’ve been in love with you, pretty much since the moment we met. You wanna know what makes my lucky pen lucky? Because you gave it to me, and we’ve gotten to work together every day since. I have been slowly falling in love with you for five years, and when I shipped out to Europe, all I could think about was making it back home. To you Zoey, so I could tell you how I feel. And this is … this is horrible timing. But, I’m glad I finally said it.” 

Max waited with bated breath for Zoey to say something, anything, in return. But she just stood there, staring at him for a moment before finally speaking.

“I believe Simon is innocent. Someone is framing him, and I’m going to need your help to figure out who.”

“Zoey? I just told you that I loved you. There’s nothing you want to say in regards to that first?” Max asked. He moved to take her hand, but backed out at the last second, letting his fall just short of their destination. 

“No, I do… or I will … I just … we need to put this story to bed first.” Zoey replied. 

_Before I could reply, my phone let out a jolting ring, interrupting what looked like round two of ‘Simon is Innocent’ . Zoey and I stood staring at each other for a few rings, before I finally reached over and picked up the receiver._

“Max Richman. Who is this?”

**“ _Someone you’re going to want to listen to. I have important information you need to know for that story you’re writing about Jessica Hamilton_ .”**

Zoey mouthed ‘who is it?’ to Max, curious about an anonymous caller so late at night. He shrugged in reply before speaking again.

“Oh, really? Does that have anything to do with how you got this unlisted number?”

**“ _No, but it has everything to do with that pretty little redhead who’s always chasing your tail_ ** **.”**

“What are you talking about?” Max said, his tone becoming very serious.

**“ _Zoey Clarke’s life is in danger_ ** **.”**

_To Be Continued..._


	6. The Set-Up

**“ _Zoey Clarke’s life is in danger._ ” **

“Tell me everything you know. Now.” Max barked into the phone.

**“** ** _I can’t, not now, the walls have ears. Look, if you want her to see your next byline, meet me in the alley between Fourth and Grand in one hour._ ** **”**

_The ominous stranger hung up after that, gone as quickly as he came, leaving me with my heart drumming in my ears. Turned out I was right about Zoey playing a little too close to the fire, but I was willing to do just about anything to keep her from getting burned._

“Who was that, Max? God, you’re white as a sheet.” Zoey said, stepping towards him and putting her hand on his arm. 

“Zoey, I have to tell you something. And I need you to remain calm.”

“Okay … why do I have the sudden feeling like the shoe is on the other foot?” 

“Whoever that was on the phone … they said they had some information about the case, about Jessica’s murder.”

“That’s great! New information could be just what we need to clear Simon’s name.”

“Zoey... they said your life was in danger.” Seeing her mind starting to spiral at his words, Max immediately took her hands in his own; rubbing his thumbs gently across her knuckles. “But, it's all going to be okay. Alright? I’m going to handle everything.”

“What do you mean? How can you possibly handle something like this?” Zoey asked. She glanced down at their joint hands quickly before looking back up at him.

“Guess I’ll have to go meet with the mysterious caller and find out.” Max gave her a smile, letting go of her hands to put on his suit jacket.

“You mean _we’re_ going to meet with him.”

“No, it's too dangerous for you to go.”

“And you meeting a stranger in a dark alley, all alone, isn't? I’m going.”

“Zoey, please. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you… for reasons already previously stated. Okay? I promise, I’ll be fine. Now come on, we have to get you somewhere safe.”

“Can’t I just stay here?” Zoey asked, confused at the need for a change in location.

“No, there’s no one else around and there’s too many entrances into the building. I’ll drop you off at the Blue Lagoon, at least there Joan can offer some protection.” 

Zoey nodded in agreement, and so the two quickly made their way to the club.

_Nothing about any of this sat well with me. If I had it my way, I would have kept Zoey by my side every second until I knew she was safe. But she was right, a secret meeting in an alleyway wasn’t much in the way of security. I dropped off Zoey at the Blue Lagoon, and thankfully Joan didn’t need much persuading to help. Looking at the clock, I only had about ten minutes to spare, so I turned to Zoey and placed my hand gently on her cheek. I couldn't help but smile in awe of how brazen I had become after sharing my feelings. It was actually pretty easy, especially when Zoey looked up with her eyes all full of worry - most of it reserved for me. With one last longing look, I was on my way. Normally, I wasn’t too jumpy when having a hush-hush rendezvous with a source. But considering the circumstances I don't think anyone would blame me. I leaned myself against one of the brick walls in the alley, turning my head at every noise, hoping each time to finally see the person I was waiting for. Minutes went by when it suddenly dawned on me, that maybe someone wanted me to leave Zoey’s side, to leave her all alone. Just as I turned to leave and jump back in my car, I heard a voice call out from the shroud of night._

“ _You come alone?_ ” 

“Yeah, and just in case you were thinking of trying anything funny, you should know I picked up a trick or two in the army.” Max said, trying to size up the figure standing in the shadows.

“Easy green beret, while I would love to see what ‘tricks’ you could possibly know, that’s not why you came here tonight.”

_As a lanky figure stepped out into the dim light of the alley, and I realized I knew him. He was the other one of Joan’s goons that was always standing at by the front door. I almost didn’t recognize him without his tall, blonde, rat of a partner._

“I know you ... from the Blue Lagoon.” Max said, walking to meet him in the middle of the alley.

“Names Tobin. Now, let’s get down to business before anyone notices I’m gone.”

* * *

Zoey was sitting at the bar, nervously twisting the paper napkin from the bottom of her drink.

“Geez, would you relax? You’re the one with a target on your back, not your boyfriend. He’ll be fine.” Joan said, pouring Zoey another drink from behind the bar.

“Sorry, I just hate sitting here feeling totally helpless. I can’t help Max, I can’t help Simon, hell I can’t even help myself. That’s why you’re babysitting me, right? Why else would the owner tend the bar.”

“Because I make a really stiff drink, unlike that pansy I just fired, and you look like you could use it.” Joan replied. 

Zoey smiled at the woman, before quickly chugging her drink. 

“Hit me.” Zoey responded, holding up her freshly empty glass. 

* * *

“Tell me, who’s trying to kill Zoey?” Max said sternly. 

“Okay so, normally I would shoot myself in the foot again like I did to avoid the draft rather than talk to a reporter. But this was just too good to pass up.”

“What the hell are you talking about Tobin?”

“I mean, I spend almost every second of my waking life at that club. I pride myself on knowing what’s going on with everybody. But even I couldn’t have predicted this one.”

“Were you actually planning on being helpful? Or is this all one big ruse because you’re in on it too?” Max was officially starting to panic, was there no one he could trust?

“Oh I’m not the one in on it…”

* * *

“Um, Joan?” Leif said, cautiously approaching his boss.

“What?”

“I hate to bother you, but, you said to let you know if Charlie ever came in with Betty Davis again.”

“The gall of that big-eyed bimbo. Leif, stay with Zoey. No one even looks her way? Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Leif replied, as Joan marched off towards her husband’s booth.

Zoey turned around to face Leif, squinting at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you know how to make something called a Sidecar?” 

“No.”

“Okay, well then can you pour me … whatever?”

Giving her a fake smile, Leif begrudgingly went behind the bar and poured some whiskey into her glass.

“Thank you.” Zoey replied, suddenly taking notice of the bottle in his hand. “Huh, Max drinks that brand. Speaking of Max … he’s been gone an awfully long time...”

“Where is he anyway? Normally you two are glued at the hip.”

“We are, aren’t we? Huh, I guess I never noticed. Then again there’s a lot I didn’t notice, apparently.” Zoey stared into her glass, observing that the liquid was the same warm color of Max’s eyes, before downing the whole thing. “He’s out there trying to protect me. Of course he is, he’s my best friend. Hey, Leif? What do you call two people who want to protect each other forever? Who would do anything to make the other person feel safe … and loved.”

“Chumps.” Leif said, pouring Zoey another drink.

“That’s so cynical. Look around, everyone else looks so carefree, except you. And me.” Zoey said, staring into her glass again.

“Let’s just say, my heart’s not in it.” He replied.

* * *

“You know, it didn’t click until just yesterday when I saw them talking.”

“Saw who, Tobin?” Max said, rubbing his temples.

“At first I thought they had a side thing going on, but then I realized how ridiculous that sounds. I mean Leif would have told me...”

“So it’s Leif, Joan’s other lackey? That’s who wants Zoey dead?”

“What? No, are you even listening?” Max restrained himself from getting violent, as Tobin continued to push each and every one of his buttons.

“Look, you called me and said Zoey’s life was in danger. Can we get to that part? Please?” Max begged, wanting the exchange to be over so he could get back to her. 

“Oh yeah, the cute redhead, that’s who I heard them talking about. By the way … are you _sampling_ that particular dish? If you know what I mean.”

“Tobin, I swear to God…”

“Hey, you can’t blame me for asking. I mean she did look pretty cozy with that singer guy earlier…”

* * *

“Here is your straw.” Leif said, handing it to Zoey, whilst silently judging her.

“Thank you.” 

Zoey had just placed the straw in her drink and was taking a long sip, when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Turning around, she found Simon standing behind her in an oversized trench coat with his fedora hanging low on his head.

“Mind if I join you?” He said, sitting on the barstool next to her. Leif looked ready to pounce, but Zoey quickly dissuaded him.

“No, it’s okay, he’s okay. Simon? You’re still here?”

“I just can’t seem to bring myself to go home yet. Is your partner here? When I saw you I thought you may have made a new discovery on the case.”

“No, not yet. I’m actually here for my own protection. That’s why my guard dog here was ready to pounce.”

“Protection? From who?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know exactly. But apparently, someone is trying to kill me.” Zoey replied, taking another few sips from her straw.

“Oh my god, Zoey. I’m so sorry that I got you involved in all this.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”  
“Still … I think I better stay with you. Two guard dogs is better than one - right?” Simon replied, a small smile peeking out.

“Actually, I’m being summoned.” Leif said, looking over to see Joan waving him over. 

Leaving the bottle on the bar, he walked over to her leaving Zoey and Simon alone. 

* * *

“Okay, enough of this.” Max said, as he marched towards Tobin, twisting his right arm behind his back and pushing him face first into the brick wall. “Tell me what you know, now!”

“Ow, ow, okay. So, I heard them talking all secretively yesterday and it made me think back to the night of the murder. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but, after closing, I went to the club because I had left my gun in the men's room. I had been roughing up some boozer earlier that night who made a pass at this doll I had my eye on, and Joan said if she found it lying around again, she’d demote me to a nightstick.”

“I’m still not hearing the point of the story…” Max said as twisted a little harder.  
“Gahh! The place was empty except for Jessica, I know because she saw me and promised not to tell Joan about my mistake. But, as I was getting in my car, I saw someone else come out the back door. I don’t think they saw me though.”

“Who? Who was it Tobin?”

* * *

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Autumn? Long time no see.” Zoey said as she looked up, realizing that at some point she had fallen asleep on the bar.

“You two know each other?” Simon asked.

“Yeah, Max and I were sweethearts, once upon a time. So, of course, Zoey and I got to see each other every now and again.”

“And what times they were.” Zoey said, reaching for the bottle. Autumn beat her to it, pouring the remnants into Zoey’s glass.

“I hope you don’t mind, Zoey, Joan filled me in on your predicament. You poor thing, I just wish this whole awful mess could be put behind us.”

“You and me both.” Simon added.

“But I know things will get better soon.” Autumn said, reaching over the bar to give Zoey’s hand a heartfelt squeeze. “In the meantime, Joan suggested that I take you to the back office. The crowd is about to start thinning out here and she doesn’t want you to be too exposed.”

“Oh, okay.” Zoey replied, slowly shifting off her barstool. 

“I’ll come with you.” Simon said, helping Zoey to her feet. 

Once in the office, Zoey and Simon sat down on the worn fabric couch that sat against the far wall.

“Joan will be here in a jiffy. Just relax, and take it easy.” Autumn said, closing the door behind her.

* * *

“It was Autumn!” Tobin exclaimed.

At the mention of her name, Max released his grip.

“Really? You expect me to believe...” Max started to say, but Tobin cut him off.

“She came out right after I did, and by then Jessica _had_ to be dead. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I mean, that girl is sweeter than molasses and gentler than a baby fawn, she doesn’t exactly fit the profile of a killer. But then I heard her and Leif talking yesterday...”

“Okay, enough. If you wanted to waste my time, you’d have to come up with something more believable than ‘Autumn is a killer’. We were an item once, I know her. She’s a lot of things, but a killer she ain’t.” Max said, shaking his head.

“I swear, I’m telling you the truth. She and Leif were talking about Zoey, how she was sniffing around the club. Autumn even had Leif give her his gun.”

“Oh sure, Autumn with an automatic. Just give it up.” Max turned to leave, stopping in his tracks when Tobin called out.

“Max, where’s Zoey right now?”

“At the Blue Lagoon, which is a decision which I’m starting to second guess.”

“Good, because if Autumn is working tonight, she’s gonna try something.”

“Why do you care, huh? Say Autumn does want to kill Zoey, what does that matter to you? I think you just want me chasing my tale so that Simon, or Leif, or whoever the _real_ killer is can get me off their scent. But it’s not going to work.” Max said, wagging his finger at Tobin, unwilling to get played for a fool.

“If she has Leif’s gun, he could take the wrap for whatever she’s trying to pull. I’m just trying to protect my partner - you seemed like you would be the kind to do the same.” 

“Goodbye Tobin. Thanks for wasting my time.” Max said, as he turned and walked back to his car.

“Fine! Don’t believe me! Anything happens to her, that’s on you now, I’ve said my piece.” Tobin called out, before turning and heading in the opposite direction.

As Max walked past a payphone, he decided to double back to make a call.

“Operator, give me The Blue Lagoon please. ” 

“ **_Blue Lagoon, who the hell is this?_ **” A female voice answered.

“Joan? It’s Max Richman.”

“ ** _Who?_ **”

“The reporter from the Decoder, Zoey’s friend.”

“ ** _Oh, yes Skippy. What can I do for you?_ **”

“Well, I just met with my so-called informant. It was a bust, which makes me think the threat on Zoey’s life is too. How is she?” Max’s voice softened on that last part, relieved at the idea of her being safe again.

“ ** _Other than drinking up all of my whiskey, she’s fine. Saw her sitting with Haynes a moment ago. She must really like him if she’s willing to overlook that whole ‘murder suspect’ thing._ **”

“Oh, yeah…”

“ ** _Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home safe and sound. Though I wouldn’t count on her being an early riser tomorrow._ **”

“Yeah … thanks Joan. For everything.” Max hung up the phone, taking a beat before heading to his car. 

* * *

Zoey awoke the next morning to her head feeling like it was housing a construction site. She jolted when she realized she was still in Joan’s office at the Blue Lagoon, and she was even more shocked when she realized her pillow had been Simon’s shoulder. His eyes started to flutter open as she moved to stand up.

“I guess Joan forgot about us.” Simon said.

“I guess. You don’t think something happened, do you?”

“No, she usually gets distracted whenever Charlie is around. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was too busy ripping him a new one all the way home to remember we were waiting in here.”

“Speaking of home … I have to…” Zoey began to say, but the pounding in her head gave her a dizzy spell that knocked her back on the couch. Simon immediately reached out a hand to steady her.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Fine, just embarrassed. Normally I can hold my liquor better than this. I am of Irish descent after all, that’s the only way you can get a red this natural.”

“Doesn’t surprise me that you hit the sauce a little too hard. You had a lot on your mind last night.”

“More than you know.” Zoey said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“And I know it was more than just being on somebody’s hit list. At least a part of it.” Simon said, turning to look at her.

“Trust me, you couldn’t possibly…” Zoey started to say, but was cut off by Simon taking her hands in his.

“Zoey, I’m sorry if this whole situation has put a strain on your relationship with Max. But I just want you to know how much I appreciate you believing me. Ever since Jessica died, I’d been feeling so lost. Like the whole world just blurs by… except you.”

Zoey looked at Simon, seeing the glint in his eyes, before bringing her gaze back down to their hands. He smiled at her, and for a split second, it looked as though he was leaning in for a kiss. As he got closer, Zoey had flashes of Max and their conversation the night before, specifically how it felt when she held his hands. Quickly, she pulled back from Simon’s and moved herself to the other end of the couch. 

“Simon, I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“No, I’m sorry. It’s absolutely inappropriate of me to have even... Jessica’s murderer is still out there and … you’re just trying to help. I think I may be more lost than I know.” Simon said, casting his eyes to the floor out of embarrassment and shame.

“I find you charming, I do. And I’m flattered, truly. But … my heart belongs to Max. I’m in love with him.” Zoey finally admitted, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Boy, it feels good to finally say that out loud.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Autumn said, surprising both of them as she stood in the doorway, a gun in her hand. Her expression was unlike anything they have ever seen. The once sweet and caring waitress now seemed aloof and taken by madness, her eyes wild but resolute. “Here I thought you two might be riding off into the sunset. But now, it looks as though I’ll have to kill you too.” 

_To Be Continued..._


	7. Fallen Angel Against the Clock

_**“… my heart belongs to Max. I’m in love with him.” Zoey finally admitted, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Boy, it feels good to finally say that out loud.”** _

**_“Well, that’s too bad.” Autumn said, surprising both of them as she stood in the doorway, a gun in her hand. Her expression was unlike anything they have ever seen. The once sweet and caring waitress now seemed aloof and taken by madness, her eyes wild but resolute. “Here I thought you two might be riding off into the sunset. But now, it looks as though I’ll have to kill you too.”_ **

* * *

“Autumn?” Zoey said, the confusion doing nothing to help her hangover.

“It was you? You killed Jessica?” Simon’s face looked no different than Zoey’s, except for the tears brimming in his eyes. 

_ No surprise to anyone, this new information had broken something deep inside him. He trusted Autumn and learning she was responsible for the murder of the love of his life had Simon devastated. Zoey could, of course, relate to the shock he was going through. The woman in front of them was usually the last one she would ever suspect to swat a mosquito - let alone murder someone in cold blood.  _

“Well, I had to. I didn’t want to, believe me, I liked Jessica. She was always so nice to me. But I did what I had to do for the man I love.” Autumn replied, an almost obsessive conviction in her tone .

“The man you love? You mean Max? Autumn, Max would never…” 

“Now, now. Let’s all keep our heads before the show tonight. You-” Autumn said, turning to Simon. “Take that rope over there and tie her up nice, like the ribbon on a Christmas present. And no funny business, I’m a pretty good shot.” 

Upon hearing Max’s name, the blonde seemed to have been jolted, her demeanor changing drastically. That deranged look was back with a vengeance, giving Zoey a shiver down her spine. It didn’t seem wise to try to reason with her right now. In the meantime, Simon took a gulp and followed her instructions. He tied Zoey’s wrists together before doing the same to her ankles, sitting her back down on the couch that had been their bed not moments before. With another piece of rope, Autumn got Simon in the same position before looking at the clock on the wall.

“I thought you were going to kill us.” Zoey called out, hoping that someone was near enough to hear. 

“Oh I am. But like I said … we gotta wait till showtime.” The smile on Autumn’s face didn’t quite reach her eyes as she turned to leave them. 

“Why did you do it?! Why did you kill Jessica?!” Simon said, his rage finally bubbling to the surface.

“You at least owe him an explanation.” Zoey added, hoping to diffuse a bit of the tension and maybe build on that to get them out of this mess.

“I didn’t want to. I had to.” Autumn repeated, almost like she was trying to convince more than just her prisoners.

“So you keep saying Autumn, but it’s not exactly a reason. What motive could you possibly have? Is this really all about Max?” Zoey, ever the investigator, didn’t let her life being in imminent danger stop her from wanting answers. She kept her eye on the gun as Autumn moved closer, waiting to hear the explanation.

“Oh, well that’s simple. Max needed a story, so I’m giving him one. I’m helping. Or at least I thought I was, before I realized my Maxie was being less than honest with me.”

“Still, you did it Autumn, Max will have a front page byline now. So, there’s no need to kill us right? We understand why you did it … don’t we, Simon?” Zoey looked over at him, silently begging him to play along.

“Yeah, sure. Completely.” He gritted through his teeth. If his expression didn’t give him away, the murderous glare in his eyes surely would.

“Oh please, I’m an actress I know when someone is throwing me a line. But, see, it’s not even about the story anymore. Max lied, he said he needed to focus on work but I know … _ it’s you _ . It’s always been  **_you_ ** . So you need to be taken out of the picture.”

“Autumn I am not your enemy. Let me help you, I have some contacts at the police precinct - this can still turn around. Just put the gun down, untie us, and we will figure it out okay?” 

_ Zoey knew she had to trade carefully. One wrong word and whatever she was building up to would turn to ash and probably take her and Simon down with it. It was heartbreaking to see what Autumn’s obsession had turned her into. While I played my part, I wasn’t the one that got Autumn desperate enough to take a life. All those rejections in each and every area of her young life had taken their toll.  _

“Are you calling me a criminal? Whatever I did, I did it for Max, I did it for love! I love him! He’s the only one who’s ever really seen me. No one ever did before, not unless I had their drinks in my hand. Not agents, or directors, or producers, or even my own father … only Max. And I’m not letting you take him from me. And he needs to learn a lesson for lying.” 

“Are you going to hurt Max?” Zoey asked, with a newfound terror in her eyes. 

“I would never hurt him. I love him.”

“But, if you kill me that will hurt him, Autumn. You know it will.”

“He’ll get over it. I’ll help him with that too. Now, sit tight and wait for my cue. I’ll call places and then we can get this show on the road.” Autumn said, standing up and shoving old bar rags in their mouths before finally taking her leave.

* * *

_ While Zoey was sitting in limbo, I was sitting in my apartment feeling sorry for myself. After a night of trying to drink my troubles away, I found they weren’t going down without a fight. It was well into late afternoon when I finally made my way into the bullpen. Somewhere between Jack and Daniels, I had decided that I would finish the story … and that it would be my last one for the Decoder. I wanted Zoey to be happy, but I knew I couldn’t stick around and watch it not be with me. Walking past my desk, I headed straight for Mitch’s office. I found him sitting with David, going over layouts. _

“Hey, Ace. Got a nice spot for your murder story. Front page too, huh, would you look at that?” Mitch’s playful tone made the news that much harder to deliver.

“I wanted to put it on page 37, next to an ad for dog food but the old man won out.” David added, immediately ruining the mood giving Max his open. 

“Yeah, thanks for that. Um, Chief, can I have a word?”

“We’re in the middle of layouts Golden Boy…”

“Cool down David, I won’t be around to threaten your flimsy sense of self-worth much longer.” Max’s sharp reply was in a tone neither Clarke man had heard before.

“You going somewhere, kid?” Mitch asked, the grin on his face slowly disappearing when he saw Max was serious. 

“The dead songbird is gonna be my last story, at least here at the Decoder. Consider it my letter of resignation.” Max said.

“David, give us a minute.”

“With pleasure Dad. Richman, you’ll be missed.” David said, walking over to Max with an extended hand, and after a quick shake he was on his way. 

“You really going to leave me hanging Ace? Or do I get a reason why I’m losing my top reporter?” Mitch asked.

“I have to respectfully decline divulging the details, sir. But, I will say it is for a … personal reason.” Max’s face fell, as his mind wandered back to thoughts of Zoey with someone else.

“Okay. If that’s how you wanna do this, then there’s just one question left. You still got that bottle of cognac I gave you after your first big byline in the bottom drawer of your desk?” 

_ It was at that moment, I remembered why I loved that man almost as much as his daughter. We headed to my desk and cracked the bottle open - recounting our favorite stories and memories as we drank. I knew what he was doing of course, as my editor Mitch was well aware of my status as resident sentimentalist. A couple of hours and a half a bottle later, he seamlessly switched tactics.  _

“So, where’s this final story?” Mitch asked, as he poured them another round.

“I’m actually stuck on the ending. Thought I had it all figured out but … I don’t even know which way is up anymore.”

“Well, walk me through it.” Mitch took his glass, sitting back in his chair waiting for Max. 

“Jessica Hamilton was killed in her dressing area backstage at the Blue Lagoon. Stabbing suggests a crime of passion, and that night she had a fight with her fiancé who has an alibi flimsier than a wet noodle. I had the fiancé pegged. All the evidence points to him, and I thought the informant I met with yesterday would confirm it.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t?”

“No, they did not. He tried to spin this story that it was my old flame Autumn.” 

“The one out chasing butterflies? Normally I wouldn't recommend ruling anything out, but a delicate thing like that committing murder is a tough pill to swallow. Personally, I didn’t see you ending up with the flower festival kind of girl. I always thought you’d end up with someone more like … well, Zoey.”

Max let out a sigh, he should have known Mitch would see right through him. The older man threw a comforting pat on his arm. 

“So did I Chief, so did I. Actually, come to think of it, we never even made it to the flower festival because of Autumn’s aller-” Max stopped mid sentence, his eyes popping out of his head. Mitch leaned forward, concerned but waiting for Max to share with the class. “Gardenias.”

“You lost me. What’s so special about gardenias?” Mitch asked. 

“We weren’t five feet from the festival when Autumn’s allergies hit her like a ton of bricks. The theme was ‘Year of the Gardenia’.” Practically leaping from his seat, Max got up and rushed out with his Chief right on his tail. “Mitch, I gotta go. If I’m not back in half an hour, call the cops and tell them to get to the Blue Lagoon.”

“Okay, you got it. Go get em’ Ace.” 

_In my mad dash out of the office, I barely had time to feel guilty about not giving Mitch the details on how his daughter was in danger._ _Running as fast as my feet would take me, I made my way to the Blue Lagoon; adrenaline fueling me as I didn’t feel comfortable driving my car under whatever influence alcohol still had over me. Though discovering my old flame was a killer was very sobering. I felt foolish for not seeing it sooner; Jessica’s perfume being made from the one flower Autumn was allergic to shouldn’t have escaped my memory. But it did, and as I ran through the streets of San Francisco I could only hope it hadn’t been too late to remember._


	8. How The Story Unfolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone - I apologize for being so M.I.A. when it came to finishing this story.  
> I wish I had a reason other than 'I just didn't want to' but, unfortunately, that's all I got. Not because I gave up on the story itself, I just lost my muse. And while I didn't get that particular muse back, another muse gave me just what I needed to start writing again. But, enough about me!
> 
> I am thrilled to finally put this story to bed. (And no, that was NOT an innuendo) 
> 
> So, without further ado - I give you the thrilling conclusion to 'Singin' A Different Tune'
> 
> Enjoy!

_ I felt as though I was flying, as I ran through the dim San Francisco streets like my life depended on it. Mostly, because I knew Zoey’s very well could. Just when I felt my knees start buckle, I saw a familiar blue light in the distance. I was close. I just had to pray, to whoever sat high above the clouds, that I wouldn’t be too late… _

* * *

“Autumn, please. It isn’t too late. Let us go.” Zoey begged, as Autumn finished tying the rope around her neck to one of the pulley levers attached to the stage curtain. Simon was tied up too, on a railing just a few feet away, feeling totally helpless.

“You don’t want any more blood on your hands.” He pleaded.

“I think you mean  _ your  _ hands. Because that’s how it’s going to be once the audience gets a sneak peek at our little performance. Poor Zoey … just another victim of loving Simon Haynes - wanted murderer. And to think, my teachers in school said I never thought things through.” Autumn said, with an eerie giggle. 

What she hadn’t noticed was, as she had been monologuing, Simon had been twisting the rope around his hands against a very sharp edge. Shooting Zoey a look, Simon waited until Autumn’s back was turned before he charged, tackling her to the ground. All eyes went to the gun, which slid just a few short feet away. Right then, it was a mad dash to see who could get their hands on the weapon first. Simon tried to scramble as fast as he could, but Autumn was faster. Once the gun was in her hand, she used it to knock Simon out cold.

“Now, where were we?” She said, turning back to Zoey.

* * *

Max ran into the Blue Lagoon, panting so hard he could barely breathe. But that didn’t stop his gaze from wandering around at all angles, hoping to see a flash of red hair at the bar that told him Zoey was safe. Instead, all he saw was a sea of strangers; among them was Leif standing by a secluded corner of the club. So Max just marched right on over.

“Where is she?” He said, his tone very demanding.

“Where is who, exactly?” Leif said. Max wanted to punch the smug right off his face, but decided to try a different tactic first.

“Zoey. Where is Zoey?”

“Oh, she went home. I escorted her myself.” Leif replied, lying his teeth and doing a pretty convincing job of it.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to be straight with me.” Max said, his voice dipping into a low whisper. “I know all about your little deal with Autumn. Tell me what her plan is before anyone else gets hurt.” 

“Listen, I already told you…” Leif started to say, but Max didn’t give him time to finish.

Instead, he got his wish. Max threw the first punch, landing it square on Leif’s jaw. And once he was down for the count… the hits just kept on coming.

“WHERE”  _ *punch* _ “IS”  _ *punch* _ SHE!?!?” Max’s words were as desperate as his actions, and it didn’t stop until Tobin came over and pulled him up.

“What the hell are you doing?” He said.

“Tobin, have you seen Autumn tonight?” Max asked. 

“Check backstage. That’s the only place closed off until showtime.”

“Got it.” Max said, running back to where it all began - the scene of the crime. And he was just in time to catch the second act.

“Simon! Wake up, Simon!” Zoey hollered to his unconscious body on the ground.

“No! That’s not how this was supposed to go!” Autumn cried at Simon’s limp figure on the floor. “Looks like we’re moving up the curtain call.” She said, walking towards Zoey. 

“Autumn, please. No, no, no…” Zoey begged, as Autumn began to push her towards the open space in the railing. 

Just as she was about to succeed, Max appeared on the other side of the catwalk.

“Autumn - DON’T!!!” He screamed, trying to get her attention.

“Maxie?”

“Autumn, please?” Max said, shifting his tone. The crazy eyes coming off of the blonde told him that tensions were high enough, without him adding to it. “I know. Okay? I know everything. I know that it was you who killed Jessica.”

“I knew you could figure it out Maxie. You were always such a smart cookie.” Autumn said, looking at him like a crazed groupie. “But, what was it that gave me away?”

“Tobin, actually.” Max confessed, feeling guilty. “But I didn’t believe him, until I remembered about your allergies.”

“Gardenias. It just had to be gardenias. She couldn’t have a perfume of roses or jasmine; no, she couldn’t be regular. She had to be spectacular.”

Max inched closer to them with every word, stopping when Zoey sent him a look that told him not to take another step. 

“Tell him, Autumn. Tell Max why you’re doing all of this.” Zoey said, all the while keeping an eye on how close her t-strap shoes were to the edge.

“I’m doing it for you, baby. For us.” Autumn replied, never taking her eyes off of Max.

“But, Autumn. There isn’t an us anymore, remember?”

“Well, that was only because you needed a big story. Right? That’s what you said. ‘ _ I need to find my next scoop Autumn, that’s what I need to focus on now _ ’.” She said, doing a terrible ‘Max’ impression.

Hearing his own words repeated back to him, Max kicked himself for being the first domino to fall in this game. But he wasn’t about to let another one fall, especially one that would cost him the best thing he had in his life.

“Well, congratulations. You did it. This songbird murder story is gonna knock me straight to the top. Maybe even earn me a Pulitzer. So, thanks but your job is done.”

“No, not quite. See you left one part out of our story Maxie … the part where you were seduced by a nobody newspaper heiress.” Autumn’s anger came pouring out, all of it directed at Zoey.

“She didn’t seduce me, Autumn.”

“Didn’t she? I see the way you look at her Max. You never looked at me that way … WHY COULDN'T YOU EVER LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!!!!” As Autumn started escalating, mascara running down her face, Max tried once more to diffuse the situation with his words.

“Autumn, I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to lie, even if all I was trying to do was spare your feelings. The truth is … I’ve been in love with Zoey for a long time. Before you and I ever met. But that’s not her fault, it’s mine. I’ve been pining like a schoolboy, not really thinking about the collateral damage that causes. It was always Zoey, and I’m starting to believe it will always be.” Max said, no longer talking to just Autumn. Despite her dire circumstances, Zoey threw him a genuine smile. “Please, Autumn. If you care about me, at all, don’t do this.”

_ I didn’t know if it was my pleading eyes, or my long overdue apology, but Autumn seemed touched. She let go of her grip on Zoey, as tears continued streaming down her face. That gave Zoey just enough space to catch her restraints on another sharp edge, cutting her hands loose. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in when I saw Autumn walk towards me, the gun hanging carelessly in her hand. Zoey had only gotten the noose halfway off, when suddenly the gun dropped from Autumn’s hand, stopping my heart along with it.  _

As a shot went off, Max watched helpless, as Zoey threw herself off the edge of the platform trying to avoid a stray bullet. As she fell, letting out a terrified scream, the other end of her rope came undone from its previous anchor. Even without the rope around her neck, a fall from that height would surely kill her. Acting on instinct, Max ran forward, catching the rope right before it disappeared over the railing. He somehow managed to swing over the edge, catching Zoey as she fell. Managing to get his foot into the noose, Max pulled them into some kind of strange swing, balancing on the rope under his foot and the one in his hand; while the other hand held some very precious cargo.

“Zoey, are you okay?” Max asked. Zoey only answered when she finally opened her eyes, seeing that she was safe in Max’s arms, instead of splat on the ground.

“You saved me.”

“Well, what did you think I was going to do? Let you fall to your death? What kind of friend would I be?”

“The best.” Zoey responded, her eyes meeting his like they had many times before. “I’m sorry for what happened. For what I said, or rather what I didn’t say back at the  _ Decoder _ .”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I was so hung up on the Simon of it all, I didn’t see the real danger right in front of me.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been missing things right in front of them.” Zoey said, with a look on her face that made Max swallow,  _ hard _ . “Being tied up, waiting to die, it really gives a girl some time to think.”

“And what was it that you were thinking about, exactly?” Max asked.

“This.” Zoey replied, as she leaned forward, gently, capturing Max’s lips in a searing kiss. 

“Okay, someone needs to get us down, right now.” Max said, parting only because of the lack of oxygen. 

“I think that can be arranged.” Zoey said, wrapping her own arms around his neck as they kissed again, even more affectionate than before.

* * *

_ Once Zoey’s lips met mine, I was floating on air. I wasn’t totally sure if that was from the kiss itself, or the fact that we were still suspended fifty feet in the air over the stage. Either way, I didn’t care. And just like that, the case was closed. Autumn was arrested on two counts - murder one, and attempted murder. I spoke on her behalf at the trial, claiming insanity, which finally got her the help she needed. Simon left the Blue Lagoon and headed out on tour, hoping the road would mend his broken soul. He asked Moses Jennings to be his new singing partner, and their act ended up sweeping the nation making them one of the world’s most famous duos. Joan broke it off with Leif after his meddling caused her gin joint to get so much unwanted attention from law enforcement. Tobin was happy about that though, he finally got his best friend back, which was all he wanted. Speaking of best friends, Zoey and I transitioned almost seamlessly from that to more. It wasn’t like how I dreamed it at all … it was better. I stayed on at the Decoder, which Mitch was thrilled about. Almost as thrilled as he was when I told him we needed to have a talk about my intentions toward his daughter. As it turned out, the death of a songbird was just the beginning for Zoey and me. We had finally found each other; and found that there’s no sweeter song than love's tender call.  _

# ~ ** _THE END_** ~


End file.
